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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571709">late night street lights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyengold/pseuds/hyengold'>hyengold</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a series of fortunate events (my minsung bingo entries!) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, M/M, Slice of Life, can be read romantically or platonically, minho gets called a princess, seollal? is that a tag?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:29:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyengold/pseuds/hyengold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>or: Minho drags Jisung along on a 7-11 run to avoid nosy relatives</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Jisung | Han &amp; Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a series of fortunate events (my minsung bingo entries!) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MINSUNG BINGO: Round One</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>late night street lights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>three things i learnt from writing this fic:<br/>1. korean new year isn't that much different from chinese new year, there are some cultural differences but there are noisy family reunions, new year's money and nagging elders all the same<br/>2.i am not familiar with the setting of korea during seollal, and i definitely did not do enough research for this fic<br/>3. it is hilarious to write stray kids speaking singlish... but it doesn't hit the mark</p><p>that aside, this is a submission for <a href="https://twitter.com/minsungbingo">@minsungbingo</a>! so here are the tropes i've crossed out with this little ditty: <b>traditional attires, convenience stores/supermarkets</b>. please check out their twitter, there are tons of great fics there too!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jisung suppresses what must be the fifteenth sigh of the night. Around him, noise riots, rumbling from the husky throats of elders and shrieking voices of children. On the television, the local broadcast channel is being played, brightly-coloured Seollal performances flashing on the screen, although not anyone’s really paying attention to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung curls more into his little corner, and prays no one else decides to come here. He’d definitely block the ruckus out with headphones and blast his ears with music to avoid talking to anyone, but his mother predicted this exact phenomenon and hence confiscated his only saving grace for the night on the grounds that Jisung needed to talk to his elders more. Elders who didn’t approve of his pursuit of a music career, and sore lack of a love life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrolls aimlessly through a webtoon, wincing a bit when one of the newborns starts crying. That’s the thing about extended family; as if nagging elders aren’t enough, there are also wailing babies. Jisung knows they can’t help it, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>dang</span>
  </em>
  <span> if it doesn’t grate on his nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, his phone vibrates insistently, making him jump. Curiosity rises within Jisung as he sees the contact of the caller. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jisung-ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” a voice says from the other side, but it’s nearly drowned out by the sheer racket surrounding it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minho-hyung? What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Minho asks, before saying, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>May you receive lots of blessings! Thank you!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He must have gotten a money packet from an older relative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jisung thinks back to his own stockpile of new year’s money, safely stashed in his backpack, away from prying kid hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Minho repeats, once more back on the call. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to go 7-11</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung knits his eyebrows. “So suddenly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Would you rather answer your relatives’ questions about your non-existent girlfriend?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time do you want to meet?” Jisung hastily inquires.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Jisung’s eyes widen, and he tries to bite back a snicker. He fails. “Wow,” he snorts. “So handsome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t easy to slip out under his mom’s detection, but Jisung made it work. He put on his most genuine acting skills, telling his mother in a panic that he forgot to do something for his music project, and that he had to do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> before his professor came after his ass. Mrs Han was all ready to open her mouth and argue back, but Jisung’s grandaunt cut in. “Let him go,” she soothed. “He’s an adult now, and he seems quite tired from the gathering. I’m sure he’ll be much happier after resting properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That grandaunt was officially Jisung’s favourite. After the one that made really good tteokguk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung’s leg shook throughout the entire train ride, from anticipation or the cold draft running through the car, he didn’t know. But that led him here, at the gantry, facing a Lee Minho that he never thought he’d see before. A Lee Minho in a hanbok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Minho brushes dust off his artificial silk outfit, embarrassed. “My family decided to be extra traditional this year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks good.” Jisung’s actually genuine. If it weren’t for the modern colouration, overlapping parka, and the fact that they’re standing right in the middle of the train station, he’d almost mistake Minho for a main role in a historical drama. The synthetic violet and cream white looks great against his complexion and freshly dyed brown hair, reverted back from his rebellious blue a few weeks prior so as to not antagonise his older relatives any more than necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I’m quite sure I’ve seen that shirt on you for at least three months,” Minho accuses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung scrambles to defend his clothing choices. The truth is, it’s not that he didn’t get new clothes, the sales were too good to resist, but the bulk of what he purchased were hoodies and he totally did not want to embarrass his parents and appear like a tasteless loser in front of his extended family. So he picked out the only half-decent outfit he had on hand: a band shirt he’d bought at Hyunjin’s recommendation, and only exclusively wore to parties that said Hyunjin forced him to go to. “It’s not like my parents know that! For all they know I bought it as a sorry excuse for new clothes the day before I returned home!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your ancestors are watching you, Jisung-ah,” Minho says seriously, before they both burst out into laughter. “Come on,” the older says, beckoning Jisung. “Ready to splurge all our savings on overpriced snacks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung thinks it must be a curious sight, a boy with blond hair in a black turtleneck, red band T-shirt and black ripped jeans, beside a clean-cut, pastel Hanbok-wearing young man. Still, in this sort of festive season, it's not like anyone except the occasional store-owner is there to see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two troop in sync to the nearest 7-11, Jisung quivering a little in his thinner black denim jacket. Damn him and his wannabe-edgy fashion taste. A shiver of satisfaction runs down his back once the two race into the pleasant warmth of the convenience store. The bell jingles merrily to signify their entrance, even though their heavy breaths probably already gave it away. At the cashier, a young man sits with his earpiece plugged in, eyes glued to his phone screen. How Jisung wished he were that man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he's been dragged out by his college roommate, on a quest to quench late-night snack cravings. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, it's better than trying to fabricate a fake girlfriend, I guess. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm, what to get, what to get," Minho murmurs, gazing at the array of choices in front of them. Jisung would almost refuse to admit it but even under shitty white convenience store lighting, Minho looks breathtaking. The angle that his head’s tilting at is doing wonders for his sharp features, and from where Jisung’s standing he can see Minho’s long eyelashes perfectly well, and the tan skin, contrasted with the glaring white of the shelves-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absentmindedly Jisung picks out a chocolate bread, and heads to the freezer for some peach soda, letting Minho mull over his choice for a while longer. Soon, his roommate joins him at the freezer, picking out a Coke for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung raises an eyebrow at the sugary drink. “I thought you wanted to try dieting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Seollal,” Minho shoots back. “New year, new me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone knows that’s bullshit.” But Jisung technically doesn’t have a say in Minho’s monetary management, so he leaves it at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, Minho turns to Jisung with a grin, his hand naturally seeking out Jisung’s own. Their pinkies intertwine for a half second before swinging apart. “We can’t forget the best part of a late-night 7-11 run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resenting the slight height difference, Jisung tilts his head up at Minho curiously. “Cheap booze?” he guesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho freezes, thrown off by his response. Jisung thinks it’s absolutely adorable. Minho quickly regains his senses. “That too,” he concedes. “But what I was trying to say is, we need to get cup noodles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, how could I forget.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly, how could you?” Minho chides teasingly, grabbing Jisung’s wrist and dragging him to the instant ramyeon aisle. “I’m getting the spiciest one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After doing a quick Naver search, the two pick out their brands, grab some shitty diluted beer and head to the counter. The cashier does a quick double take at Minho’s outfit, but one stern look and he’s hastily scanning their items without comment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho digs in his backpack, and shamelessly pulls out a silk packet, neatly wrapped. Jisung raises an incredulous eyebrow. Minho just shoots a smirk back at the shocked boy. “What? I have no other money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your ancestors are watching you, Minho-ah,” Jisung quotes under his breath, still staring as Minho pulls out a few won without hesitation and passes it to the cashier, who honestly looks like he could care less. Then the cashier scans Jisung’s items, and before Jisung can react and pull out his own money, Minho’s already tossing a few more of his own won over the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung!” Jisung hisses. “I could have paid for my own-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, ah,” Minho cuts in, scooping up the bags and heading for the exit, hanbok gracefully sweeping with every step. Poor Jisung has no choice but to trot along behind him. “I dragged you out, and I’m the hyung, so don’t complain. Think of it as a Seollal gift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Those things don’t exist</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jisung rolls his eyes, but keeps silent as the duo once again march out in the frosty Seoul air. Jisung already misses the toasty interior of the 7-11, but Minho’s strutting down the boulevard like a man on a mission, so Jisung supposes he’ll just have to follow along like a trusty sidekick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of tranquil walking, with no ambient noise except for the occasional couple or passing car, Jisung pipes up, “Hyung, where are we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somewhere,” Minho sings back, obviously enjoying teasing his younger roommate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung, as always, takes the bait. “Tell me,” he pleads, injecting some cuteness into his voice in the hopes of breaking down Minho’s defences. Minho, as always, doesn’t budge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll just have to find out, Jisungie,” he replies, a melodic tone in his voice. Jisung thinks it’s the best thing he’s heard in his life, and he’s a music major. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Minho makes a turn, and Jisung halts to see-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung,” he calls, “aren’t we a little too old for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho’s walking over to a playground with purpose, ignoring the two kids already playing under the glow of the street lights, which probably shouldn’t even be allowed seeing how late at night it is. The kids, a young boy and girl, maybe around five or six, halt when they spot the silhouette of the hanbok appearing in their line of vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re young at heart, Jisungie,” Minho replies blithely, even as the two kids, probably siblings, stare at him like he should belong in an asylum. Or at least, that’s what Jisung </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s how they’re looking at Minho, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> certainly thinks so. Minho stops at the foot of the “castle” and gazes up at the siblings, who peer back owlishly. “You should probably get going,” he tells them. “It’s getting late. Your parents are probably looking for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy frowns reluctantly. “But I don’t wanna-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haseul! Daesun!” a woman’s voice frantically calls out through the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl instantly perks up. “Eomma! We’re here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A frazzled, middle-aged woman wrapped up in a parka appears at the playground. Her hair is nicely done, and Jisung spots a hint of jewellery from underneath the thick material. She must have come from her own Seollal gathering. “Oh, you’re here!” she exclaims, as the kids clamber off the playground and into her arms. “Don’t run off like that!” she chides gently to the children in her embrace, placing kisses on both their foreheads. “It’s dangerous at night! You’re lucky you were found these two kind young men!” She glances gratefully at Minho and Jisung, who did literally nothing since they arrived. She smiles broadly at the duo. “Thank you both very much!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho, the charmer as usual, just smiles graciously and inclines his head slightly. Jisung just awkwardly tries to hide in Minho’s shadow. “It was no problem. Have a good Seollal, Aunty,” Minho says winningly, voice lilting with courtesy. Jisung snaps to attention and mutters something along those lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such polite boys!” the woman enthuses. “Your girlfriends will be very lucky. You two have a good Seollal too. Goodnight!” She turns away to walk back to wherever she came from. Jisung’s ears feel hot. Here he is, faced with the same topic he escaped from his family gathering to avoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl’s gaze lingers on Minho, from where her mother is slowly walking away. “Are you a princess?” she calls out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung’s eyes widen. The hanbok is clearly for men, and surely the girl will be able to tell. But Minho, sweet, sweet Minho, just takes it in his stride. His lips curl up into a happy beam. “Maybe? Do you think I’m pretty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very pretty!” the girl affirms, before getting scolded once more by her mom. Something about this society’s concept of masculinity, Jisung’s sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you!” Minho hollers back, and from the corner of his eye Jisung sees Minho show the girl a finger heart. The giggles that echo back in reply sound like tiny bells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung turns to Minho. He bows deeply. “Your highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho laughs delightedly. Jisung kind of thinks he wants to hear it again. “That’s enough,” he chuckles, as he walks up stairs that are </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> too small for a man his size. “Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a bit of a fiasco at the shaky bridge the two manage to navigate their way up to the highest point they can reach in the playground, which honestly isn’t even higher than Jisung’s head. Since the facility was built for kids, not full-grown boys, the two have to cramp in a little in order to fit themselves and the massive bag of convenience store goods onto the platform. Jisung doesn’t mind; it just means extra heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excitement of the night is starting to catch up. Jisung lazily rests his head on Minho’s shoulder as the older rummages through the bag. “You know,” he muses sleepily, “why did we get cup noodles if we don’t even have hot water to cook it in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because we’re dumb,” Minho replies smoothly, pulling out a packet of gummies he must have snuck in while Jisung wasn’t looking. He rips the packet open and offers a gummy to Jisung. “Want one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung leans forward, and bites the gummy right out of Minho’s hand. Drowsily, he chews, humming contentedly at the explosion of sugary goodness that lands on his tongue. Soon, he’s opening his mouth for more, and Minho complies. Between the two of them, they finish the packet quickly, and Minho’s pulling out Jisung’s chocolate bread and his own snack. Jisung opens his mouth for that too. “Ahh,” he says, like a little kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This too!” Minho complains, but cooperates anyway, tearing off tiny pieces of bread to place in Jisung’s mouth as he ate his own bread. Without intending to, Jisung’s eyes flutter closed. The softness of Minho’s parka is extremely alluring, and with nothing but gentle wind and Minho to accompany him, Jisung feels himself slowly slipping away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As black overtakes his vision inch by inch, Jisung thinks he can feel something press on the top of his head ever so lightly, then right above his head, a quiet murmur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Seollal, Jisungie.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>originally i was going to add a little angst about having to deal with familial expectations and whatnot but it was midnight and as you can see i channeled myself into jisung and was just about ready to hit the hay. </p><p>i had a fun time writing this idea, which i've been harbouring since january when i had my own chinese new year gatherings, but because of school and my ongoing commitments (*cough* playing with fire *cough*), i just didn't deem it important enough to write out, but now with singapore's circuit breaker, heck yeah, it's time to get the fic machine going. </p><p>initially i wrote this with the image of minho from that One the ninth episode in mind, until i realised that was a <i>woman's</i> hanbok and very contextually wrong. the girl mistaking minho for a princess was just too precious to cut out though, so i left it in.</p><p>i didn't really write this with a romantic objective in mind, but you can kind of tell through jisung's descriptions of minho that there's Something going on. it was fun writing friendly banter, i definitely plan to write more in my other bingo entries! i hope you enjoyed the fic, and please stay safe!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/straycelestials">find me on twitter!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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